


The Usual Plan

by DarkShade



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, RipFic, Secrets, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShade/pseuds/DarkShade
Summary: Accepting Gideon's offer of help to find an object he's been looking for, John does not expect the help to be Rip Hunter.John intends to find out what happened to the other man after they finish the job at hand.If he doesn't deck Rip first.
Relationships: Gideon & Rip Hunter, John Constantine & Rip Hunter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	The Usual Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NerdInABlueBox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdInABlueBox/gifts).



> This was written for the RipChat Holiday Exchange.  
> Enjoy.

John walked out the portal onto a beach, staggering slightly when the soft damp sand gave way beneath his feet. Confused he looked around the empty expanse before him, grimacing as it began to rain. Not heavy but enough to make the day miserable.

“Well, typical,” he sighed, starting to walk along to find his way off the beach wondering why Gideon had dumped him here of all places.

When Chas had called with a sighting in Ireland of one of John’s top ten ‘need to get’ magical items, he’d told Sara he was taking some time away to check into the sighting. While he was pulling together a few things he would need, John was surprised when Gideon advised him of co-ordinates from her database near the village he was going to, that would lead to someone who may be able to assist in the search. It didn’t make any sense that she’d sent him to a deserted beach.

“What the hell am I doing here?” John sighed to the ocean. 

“Gideon thought I could be of some help with your search,” the familiar voice came from behind him.

John spun, nearly falling in the soft wet sand and stared as Rip Hunter, supposedly deceased almost two years ago, stood leaning against a large rock with an amused smile on his face.

“What the bloody hell,” John demanded marching over, annoyed by the way the sand made him sink with each step, “You’re not dead.”

Rip shrugged, “And you are as observant as always, John.”

John clenched his fists, trying very hard not to just deck the smug arse, “Why…”

“Why have I not let everyone know I survived overloading the time-core?” Rip asked lightly, “Let me think about that for a few minutes.”

John rolled his eyes, “You are still an utter smug bastard, you know that don’t you?”

Rip shrugged again before noting, “Gideon felt that I would be able to help in your search, so she gave me a call and here I am.”

“Then Gideon knows…”

Rip laughed, “Of course she knows I’m alive. Do you think I wouldn’t tell her? The lecture for using the Time Core against Mallus was bad enough,” he shrugged, “Not to mention I reappeared in the world on the Waverider, so it was not possible to hide from her.”

“So,” John started, not looking back as he headed to the path leading off the sand knowing Rip was following, “Where have you been for the last two years?”

“Six months,” Rip replied, catching up with John, “It has only been six months since I fell out the timestream.” He took a breath before adding, “I headed to Tibet and met up with Wally West again. I’m still protecting time, with his help, just a little differently than before. Gideon makes sure that we don’t cross paths with anyone we don’t want to.”

John mused on this information for a moment before deciding to move to the reason he was here. Rip was hiding something, but they didn’t have the time to pursue that conversation right now. He’d get back to it once they’d finished their mission and had access to a lot of alcohol.

“Did Gideon by any chance give you information on what I’m looking for?” John asked as they reached the top of the hill.

Rip nodded, “She said it’s some kind of knife.”

“Dagger,” John corrected automatically, annoyed to see Rip’s amused smirk that he’d risen to the bait. As much as he liked Rip, and he did, they were good friends but when he was in one of those moods Rip Hunter could be a complete pain in the arse.

“It’s called the ‘Lumen Dagger’,” John explained, “It has been lost for centuries technically except it seems to pop up every few decades to cause trouble before disappearing again. I’ve been after it for years.”

Rip frowned in thought, “Lumen means light in Latin. Is that an indication of what it does or just the name because someone thought it sounded nice?”

John grimaced, “It enslaves people’s souls and allows the person who wields it to control them, but it also steals that person’s soul and they die a slow agonising death.”

“Of course, I should have known better than to ask,” Rip rolled his eyes, they reached the top of the path which lead them onto a street with four houses and he asked, “Do you know where it is?”

John grimaced, “Not exactly but,” he stopped whatever smart remark Rip was about to make, “I have an idea on how to get information on both it and where it might be.”

“And what is that?”

Pointing to the building just across from them, John smiled, “We need a pub.”

Rip followed his friend inside the building, finding it about half full. Which considering the size of the room wasn’t exactly hard, the addition of the two of them practically pushed it to capacity. He watched thoughtfully as John sauntered up to the bar and ordered one drink.

When Gideon contacted him to help John in his quest, Rip had been surprised as she had, until that moment, been in complete agreement with his decision to stay well away from the Legends. 

It wasn’t easy, being away from Gideon once more. Allowing the Legends to take her to stop Mallus had been heart-breaking but Gideon reminded him that it was the only plan they had that had any chance of succeeding. She just wasn’t happy that he had basically had to kill himself to ensure it did. Not that they didn’t talk at least once every day. She kept him up to date on what the team were doing, he made suggestions every so often that Gideon could use to help them. He told her what he was doing, and they just chatted the way they always did but it had been six months since he’d left his ship, his home, again.

Shaking himself Rip refocussed on John. It had surprised him to learn that the ‘Dabbler In the Dark Arts’ had joined the crew but it was good to know he was there since the last Rip had heard of John had been concerning.

“Should I even ask?” Rip grimaced at the single pint of Guinness John was carrying very carefully.

“You know that’s never a good idea,” John replied, walking past him and outside once more.

Rip followed on behind, wondering what his friend planned to do. The Dark Arts had never been something he’d studied much, although he was no slouch because Rip couldn’t not study something, having a friend who was steeped in them meant he always had someone to ask for the really bad or unexplainable stuff. It just didn’t help when his friend was the one doing the unexplainable things. They walked behind the pub across the grass, the rain had thankfully stopped and the ground wasn’t too soggy, until they were far enough away from the village.

John gently placed the pint glass down in the grass, making sure it was steady before fishing out a gold coin from his pocket.

“Oh, you’re not?” Rip demanded, realising what John was about to do.

John nodded, “Best way to get information in this part of the world.”

Dropping his face into his hand, Rip groaned, “Weren’t you the one who told me about the total and utter chaos that happened the last time you did this?”

“Well, if you have a better idea,” John replied, “I’m all ears.”

Letting out a slightly annoyed sigh, Rip motioned him to get on with it.

John pulled out a packet of salt and passed it to Rip, “Just in case.”

“That makes me feel safe,” Rip sighed, taking a step back to allow John to summon the creature.

Marking out a circle of salt in the grass, John placed the gold piece beside the pint glass. He circled the glass with salt as well and said the incantation to summon the leprechaun. Most leprechaun’s liked whiskey but the one he was aiming to call, the one who owed John a favour, preferred Guinness.

Light filled the circle, fading to reveal a small man standing in the centre of the salt circle. He was dressed in green, as expected but didn’t look anything like tv and movie versions. He had short red hair and carried a small but very sharp looking sword. After checking the edge of the circle, he moved slowly to the gold piece, licking his finger he drew it across the metal before tasting it.

“Real gold,” the Leprechaun stated looking up at them, “And a full pint. This must be some favour you need, John Constantine.”

“It is, Turlough,” John said.

Turlough glanced up at Rip, “And him?”

“He’s not important,” John replied, smirking at Rip, “Look, I need to know if a dangerous object is loose in the country. I need you to check and, Turlough this is and, not if you feel like it. And give me a location.”

The man thought it over for a few moments, “If I do this then my debt to you is paid?”

“Yes,” John nodded.

Turlough grinned, “Then tell me what you want me to find?”

“The Lumen Dagger.”

Surprise filled the Leprechaun’s eyes, “That’s a very dangerous item to be looking for, John Constantine.”

“Which is why I need to get it out of the world and into a safe place,” he replied.

“Then I’ll be back soon.”

The bright green light filled the circle once more and when it faded the small man was gone. 

John turned to Rip, “He’ll be back soon.”

They stood waiting in silence before, in unison, both men’s phones began to buzz. John pulled out his mobile and rolled his eyes seeing who was calling.

“Yes, Sara,” he answered, seeing Rip moving slightly further away as he took his own call.

“Just checking in and making sure you haven’t got yourself in a jam,” Sara told him.

John glanced across to where Rip was talking, his back to John to ensure his conversation wasn’t overheard.

“I’m fine,” John told her, “Met up with an old friend who’s giving me a hand.”

“Are you sure you don’t need some more help?” Sara asked hopefully, “I’m happy to come join you.”

John chuckled, “Bored?”

“Just thought you might need some assistance,” Sara replied lightly, before confessing, “And we have nothing to do at the moment.”

With another glance at Rip’s back, John had a fleeting moment of wanting to say yes just to watch the reunion. He’d heard tales of them butting heads but had never witnessed the bloodshed. John decided against it, as amusing as it might be, he was too busy to make a trip to the hospital. Not to mention Rip would probably never speak to him ever again.

“I’m fine, love,” John assured her, “See you in a few days.”

Without giving her a chance to say anything else he hung up before walking over to Rip.

“Thanks Wally. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back,” Rip said before hanging up and looking at John, “Problems?”

“Just Sara checking in,” he replied.

Rip waited, expecting John to tell him that Sara was about to appear, relieved that the words didn’t come. Letting John know he was alive had been a decision that was debated for several hours with Gideon, she finally persuaded him to let the other man know. He trusted John but did not want Sara or the others know. 

Thankfully before John could ask about Rip’s phone call, Turlough returned.

“What do you have for me?” John asked the small man.

Turlough’s eyes moved to the pint glass sitting in the circle of salt.

“You’ll get it when you give me my answers,” John reminded the little man.

Annoyance covered Turlough’s face before he shrugged, “Your dagger is in a cave. But another group of people have already found it.”

“Who are they?” Rip asked.

Turlough looked up at him, “The kind of idiots who think robes are a good fashion choice.”

Rip and John shared a look, that was never a good thing.

“Where is the cave?” John demanded sharply.

Turlough shrugged, “I don’t know what you call it, but I can send you there. Once I get my pint.”

John laughed, “Like I’m going to give you that first.”

“Then how do we do this?” Rip demanded annoyed.

John frowned, musing for a moment before asking, “Do you have any of your weird little doo-hickey devices that might be able to break the circle after he’s sent us where we want to go?”

“Doo-hickey?” Rip asked amused, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes, “You’ve been spending far too much time with the Legends.”

“And the answer to my question is?”

Rip mused for a moment checking his pockets, finding a small pod that he had created originally to blow the lock off a door, “I could modify this.”

“I’ve seen you use that before,” John noted before asking, “Didn’t it blow a hole in a wall last time you used it?”

“In my defence,” Rip stated, “I was trying to destroy the building so upped the explosive power. But I can fix it so that on a timer this lets out a small energy blast that removes the salt.”

“And doesn’t destroy my pint?” Turlough demanded.

Rip shrugged, “In theory.”

“Well, considering it’s our only option,” John motioned Rip to proceed.

Pulling out his tools, Rip quickly lowered the explosive capabilities of the pod and set a twenty second timer. Nodding to John, Rip held the button down ready to drop it.

John prepared himself to be transported by the leprechaun into a completely unknown situation. Although Turlough was getting something out of it, there was always a chance the creature would dump them somewhere dangerous just for kicks. Leprechauns could be mischievous little buggers at times.

“Alright then,” Turlough said, clapping his hands together, “Let’s go.”

As the magic enveloped them, Rip dropped the energy pod just before the landscape shifted around them from grassy hills to dark brown rock surrounding them. 

“Good luck,” Turlough’s voice echoed as he disappeared, his voice coming a few seconds later, “My pint is intact.”

Rip rolled his eyes, “Well, at least that went well today. Any ideas where we are?”

“In a cave is all I know at the moment,” John replied as he searched his pockets for the detector he’d made before leaving the Waverider, “Give me a minute and I’ll check Turlough sent us to the right place.”

Rip stood silently watching as John made a few additional marks on the detector before murmuring the incantation. The detector began to glow, and a small beam of light extended into the cave.

Rip let out an annoyed sigh, “And of course we have to go into the dark, damp caves.”

John chuckled as they both pulled out torches.

“Just once, can we not find one of these things in…I don’t know…a well-lit pub?” Rip demanded as he followed John into the cave, feeling the air around them cooling.

“To be fair, we found the statue that nearly got us both decapitated in a theatre,” John reminded him.

Rip nodded, “Fine, I concede there was at least one time it wasn’t a dark dank cave or sewer we’ve traipsed through.”

Before John could retort a small light appeared at the end of the tunnel in front of them, “I think we’ve found our new friends.”

On cue, a soft chanting filled the air around them, and Rip winced.

“Why do they always chant?” John sighed, “It’s not asking for much that they do a rock number, hell I’d even take something from a musical but no, they have to chant.”

“I’ll put it in their suggestion box,” Rip said wryly.

John sighed, “At least it’s not ‘Don’t Bring Me Down’. I can’t listen to that song anymore without feeling sick.”

“You chose the song,” Rip reminded him.

“How was I to know the slime demons were ELO fans,” John retorted, “You know I was banned from that pub after the mess.”

Rip chuckled at the memory as the two men continued to creep slowly towards the light and noise, John shutting off his detector so that they weren’t seen as they crouched behind the rocks. In the centre of a small group, who were all wearing black robes with the crest of a dagger stabbed through a heart sewn onto the front of it, was the Lumen Dagger in a clear casing.

John swore suddenly, “The Obsidian Cult, of course it would be them. Honestly you’d think they’d have given up after the last time they ran into us.”

“Is the dagger encased in glass?” Rip murmured, trying to get a proper look around the cultists standing between them and their objective.

John shook his head, “From the stories I’ve read about the last time it was loose, the dagger was supposedly encased in diamond by the sorceress who found it.”

“Well that gives us some time if they’re trying to release it from the encasing,” Rip mused softly, before asking, “How are we playing this?”

John mused for a few moments, “You shoot, I attack with fire and, while they panic, you grab the dagger.”

“So, our usual plan?”

With a slight laugh, John nodded, “What can go wrong?” he smiled at the frown Rip gave him before adding, “Just don’t touch it with your bare hands.”

Rip nodded sliding on his leather gloves before he pulled out his gun, readying it to fire. He tilted his head listening to the sounds coming from the cave nearby, “They’ve started a new chant.”

“Then we have to stop them now,” John readied himself, “For the sake of music lovers everywhere.”

John spoke the incantation and magical fire began to swirl around his fingers before he turned to Rip, “Let’s go.”

With a quick nod, Rip stepped forward and began to shoot taking out the surprised cultists as John ran in behind him. Several men rushed John who let out a blast of fire, his entire body alight with magic.

“Rip,” John snapped, “Grab it.”

Spinning out the way of one of the robed figures who tried to attack him, Rip then ducked slamming into another’s stomach and flipping the man over his shoulder. John let out another blast of fire just as Rip reached the dagger encased in diamond. The moment he took a hold of the dagger, a jolt of energy went through him and Rip felt power ripple through him.

“Rip!!!” John yelled, his voice sounding far away.

Rip looked at the weapon he was holding, it was so much more powerful than John had told him, it had power to do everything. To save those he’d lost, to save the people his friends had lost. To give Gideon a human form she had mentioned wanting once or twice, although he knew she wanted it mostly so she could smack him around the head for sacrificing himself.

“Rip,” John called again, appearing before him the fire still twirling around his fingers, “I know what it’s offering but you know it’s not real. Remember what the power the Time Masters craved did to them.”

“I can save…”

“No,” John cut him off before Rip could even finish the thought, “The dagger steal souls, and it will steal the soul of anyone you try to bring back before it takes yours.”

Rip stared at the dagger, “But…”

“No,” John interrupted again, “I know you want them back, I know you miss Miranda and Jonas,” Rip’s head came up at the names and John continued keeping Rip focussed on him, “But you can’t use this to bring them back to you. It won’t be them and you know that,” John reached out, “Give the dagger to me.”

Slowly Rip passed John the dagger and let out a gasp as the energy left him instantly. Reaching out, Rip gripped the wall to keep himself steady watching his friend while he wrapped the dagger in a black velvet cloth.

“Sorry,” Rip whispered.

John rested his hand on Rip’s shoulder, “I know how tempting it must have been for you. Unlike others in the past, you didn’t give in.”

Activating his Time Courier, Rip sighed, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

*********************************************

The Mill House was quiet when the two men entered it. Heading to the main room, Rip watched John pull out a wooden chest covered in symbols, open it and carefully place the cloth covered dagger inside.

“Got to do a few rituals,” John told him, “Make some tea, would you?”

Understanding that John needed solitude, Rip headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, so he knew where everything was. Rip just hoped John hadn’t decided to store something disgusting in the fridge next to the milk again.

“Gideon,” he activated his communicator while filling the kettle.

“Is everything alright, Captain?” concern filled her voice.

Rip chuckled, “We’re fine. We found the Dagger and are currently back in the Mill House so John can neutralise it. Why do you always assume the worse when I call you outside the agreed time?”

“Because it is you,” Gideon replied amused, “And you have a habit of getting into trouble without me.”

He laughed as he pulled out two mugs and found the teabags, “I suppose I do.”

“How much does Mr Constantine know about your return?” Gideon asked.

Rip grimaced, he knew she’d get straight to that question but had hoped they could just talk for a few more minutes before she did.

“That I’ve been back six months and I’m working with Wally,” Rip shrugged, tossing a teabag into each mug.

He could feel her disapproval in the silence before Gideon asked, “Is that all?”

“Gideon…”

“You know he can be trusted,” Gideon reminded him sternly, “That is why I suggested you help him today.”

Rip sighed, “I know.”

“Rip,” Gideon’s concern filled her voice, “Let him know everything. He will not tell the others.”

Finished making the two mugs of tea, Rip took a sip of his own before he sighed, “I’ll invite him for dinner.”

“Dinner?” John frowned confused as they exited the portal just outside the small village, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always happy to be fed and I know you can cook better than I can but…”

“But?” Rip asked lightly as he started them walking through the village.

John grimaced before demanding, “Why am I really here?”

Rip swallowed, “Because I wanted you to know the truth about why I’ve not let anyone know I’m back.”

Concern covered John’s face, he knew there was more going on than Rip had told him and had been wondering how to get his friend to talk.

“Okay then,” John said as they reached a small cottage, “What’s the truth?”

Before Rip could answer another voice filled the air the moment Rip opened the door.

“Daddy, you’re back!!!”

“Jonas,” John breathed in astonishment, watching Rip crouch and catch the little boy in his arms who hugged him tightly.

Rip laughed as he held his son, “You didn’t miss me, did you?” When Jonas nodded, he gave him a mock frown, “But you were in school all day. How did you have the time?”

“You didn’t pick me up,” Jonas reminded him.

Rip hugged his son again, rubbing his back soothingly when Jonas tucked his head against Rip’s neck, “Wally was there, and I only couldn’t pick you up because I had to help a friend.”

Realising there was someone else there Jonas turned and grinned in delight, “Uncle John.”

Jonas threw himself from Rip’s arms into John’s and John held the little boy in a tight embrace, “Oh, it’s so good to see you, kiddo.”

“Are you here to have dinner with us?” Jonas demanded.

John nodded, putting the little boy down, “I am.”

“If you stay longer then you can have hot chocolate too before bedtime,” Jonas grinned, looking over at his father with such innocence.

“Nice try, little man,” Rip laughed, kissing his son’s hair, “Go and play, I’ll call you for dinner and, if you’re good, you can have hot chocolate before bed.”

Jonas grinned before he bounced away. 

“I don’t know,” Rip pre-empted John’s question not turning from watching his son bounce over to the other children playing nearby, “My last memory is overloading the Time Core to try to give the Legends time to defeat Mallus. There was bright golden light and then it all went black. I opened my eyes and I was on the bridge of the Waverider with Jonas in my arms. I don’t know how I returned and have absolutely no idea how my son was with me. I’m just grateful that I have him back.”

John nodded in understanding, “So you brought him here to raise him in a safe environment.”

“As safe as I could find,” Rip said softly, “Away from the Legends and the Time Bureau, but with someone who could help me ensure time remains protected. Gideon and I discussed it for hours until we decided this was the best place.”

Watching Jonas running around with the other children, John nodded, “He looks happy and healthy.”

Rip smiled, “He is. And he needs to be fed so come on.”

As his friend entered the cottage John stood for a moment and watched the little boy who called him ‘Uncle John’, understanding why Rip couldn’t return to the life he used to live and why he wanted to stay away from people who were trouble magnets.

“So,” John called as he wandered into the cottage behind his friend, “What’s for dinner?”


End file.
